


Bon Voyage

by etsuukorin



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 22:50:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1203421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etsuukorin/pseuds/etsuukorin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil is sandwiched between Ranmaru and Camus on a long lasting plane ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bon Voyage

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me during a long plane ride. Please enjoy!

Cecil had been trying to talk to them for the first few hours of the flight. Sandwiched between Camus and Ranmaru, the young prince had regularly been making comments about the airplane and attempting to try and get his upperclassmen to play cards with him. Unfortunately for him, neither of them are interested.

Ranmaru isn’t the type to talk much when he travels. He likes to blare drums and guitars into his ears and get lost in the sound. He doesn’t want to think. Especially in situations like this one, where they’re in transit to a far off concert. There's only the before the plane ride and the after the plane ride. The ride itself is heavy with nothingness.

Even Camus, who at first seemed determined to try every parfait and pastry offered by the flight crew, has become uninterested. His cold eyes are glazed as he reads over a book written left to right, suffering through the fight much like the rest of the passengers. Perhaps a little less than those riding in economy class, but Ranmaru still occasionally spots an angry flash in Camus' eyes when the flight attendant accidentally brushes her cart against his knee.

It’s shitty for everybody.

Ranmaru returns to gazing out the window, unable to hear the same attendant offering them complementary drinks. It would’ve just irritated him anyway. He didn’t get why the flight crew could run up and down with drinks, and yet not offer free food unless the duration of flight was long. Of course he wouldn't pay.

A muffled Cecil is cheerfully asking for milk beside him, and then tapping at the shoulder of Ranmaru's leather jacket.

“I don’t want anything.”  
Ranmaru grumbles it but barely hear his own voice above his music. His words excuse him from the drink.

He feels Cecil watching him, even if his eyes are still on the window. When the feeling doesn’t leave as quickly as he expects it to, he passes the Cecil a glance, his expression neutral.

Ranmaru doesn’t say anything, but Cecil still smiles at him.  
It’s weird to him how the kid is satisfied with something as simple as a glance, but Ranmaru always finds it difficult to be mean.

There’s something sweet about it, if not comforting.  


Cecil would become excited when he was told about a good band. He’d sympathize when Ranmaru complained about how unorganized a director was during a gig. If Ranmaru fished out his phone to tweet about feeling ill, Cecil would quickly tweet back at him to wish him a well recovery.  
It was this sort of stuff that made it nearly impossible for Ranmaru to get legitimately angry at Cecil, even if he found his naivety frustrating.

Without removing his ear buds or returning the smile, Ranmaru turns his gaze back to the vast spread of silver clouds, swiveling his thumb around the ring of his mp3 player to switch bands. 

 

* * *

 

Cecil’s not sure how many hours have passed, but after taking a nap himself, he’s startled by the sudden weight against his shoulder. Green eyes open and lift to see a mess of wildly styled hair and a sleeping face. Ranmaru’s lips are slightly parted and, perhaps to the Ranmaru's embarrassment had he been awake, he’s snoring softly. An earbud has fallen out, and it blasts what sounds like roaring metal music.

“How can he fall asleep listening to such loud music?” Cecil wonders audibly, while reaching to turn the mp3 player off. He has to maneuver carefully around Ranmaru’s sleeping frame as not to disturb him.

His question catches Camus’ attention. The blond quirks a brow, gazing at Ranmaru snoozing on his kohai. “Somehow, I’m not surprised about that.”

Cecil reads into his Camus’s tone, but he doesn’t quite understand. “Is there something else to be surprised about?”

“The fact that he can fall asleep on your shoulder so readily.” After rolling, Camus' blue eyes flicker back down to his novel. He turns a page.

Ranmaru shows no signs of waking.

Even if he can tell that Camus is openly mocking his colleague, Cecil is proud of the fact that he’s gained enough trust to have Ranmaru sleeping on his shoulder. Even if it’s something Ranmaru doesn’t realize himself. Silently admiring the sleeping face that he’s not sure if he will see again anytime soon, Cecil carefully leans his head against the nest of Ranmaru's hair in hope to provide him warmth.

With a small smile on his lips, he hopes that the muses might allow his upperclassman to sleep for the remaining duration of the flight—

Not only for Ranmaru’s sake, but also because Cecil finds that he rather likes the way his breath feels on his skin.

 


End file.
